Awakening Book 1: Rebirth [Editing]

Prologue

Sparks flew as the horse's hooves hit the ground, scattering bits of dirt with each thunderous hoofbeat. Witchfires erupted from its nostrils as the beast snorted, its heavy breath echoing its exhaustion. The Shadow Lord pulled on the reins and his mount slowed to halt, breathing rapidly as it regained its breath. Villagers retreated into their homes as he dismounted, the sounds of doors slamming and shutters closing as the peasants fled. Everyone had heard the terrifying tales about Dymat and no one wished to be a part of a new one. Flames swirled around his feet, scorching the ground as he walked towards a small homestead. So unassuming, yet so important.

The village was small and some would describe it as quaint. The buildings were simple wooden lodges with thatched roofs, a testament to the poor wealth the little town possessed. Dymat delighted at the fact one spark coud raze the whole place to the ground. He studied the target house. Simple and unoriginal. He had to admit it was a good hiding spot, but not good enough. The Black Keep's all seeing eyes never sleep. 

The wind picked up, his flowing black cloak was swept back, revealing his jet black plate armour. The chest plate was made of folded layers of steel, with engravings and designs that oozed power. He wore a dark twisted helm with dragon's wings protruding from the sides. The eye slit glowed an angry red. His hands were covered by gauntlets that resembled the claws of a dragon. His boots were tipped with a spike, his talons. They made a clamour against the cobble stone walkway that lead to the house's main entrance.

A man burst from the home, brandishing a sword and flinging fireballs at him. Dymat swatted them aside with a wave of his hand. The Shadow Lord chuckled softly as he raised his palm. The man began to float into the air, cursing and flinging more spells that fizzled harmlessly around him. Dymat closed his fist and the man burst into flames. He dropped the burnt corpse to the ground.

A woman came out of the building and shrieked when she saw her husband lying dead in the dirt. She launched tendrils of lightning from her fingers envelloping the shadow lord but doing him no harm. White light erupted from Dymat's fingertips and the woman fell limp as the blast struck her chest. The lightning surrounding Dymat dissipated and he stepped forward. 

He strode forward into the home, blasting the door in with a wave of power. He examined the inside of the house. It appeared the family had just been eating dinner when he had interrupted. It seemed the parents had known he was coming. Dymat found what he was looking for standing in the living room.

The boys were holding hands right in the middle of the floor. Dymat had expected them to be hiding. The oldest, who looked about six years of age, had blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes. Dymat almost felt bad that he was about to extinguish them. The other had black hair but with hazel eyes. He looked about three years old. 

Dymat raised a hand and blasted flame straight at the children. He let the flames flow for a few minutes then relented. The house quickly caught fire, flames licking up the walls and charring the hardwood flooring. When the smoke cleared the two children were still there, an arcane shield surrounding them. It was flowing from the blonde's hand but Dymat saw energy being channeled from the younger one as well.

The shadow lord felt fear, a feeling he had not known in years. How could the children be more powerful than him? His thoughts were interrupted when the blonde child spoke. The words of the Old Tongue poured from his lips. Dymat felt the raw energy backing each word. He was suddenly blasted back by a force nothing could withstand. He slammed hard against the wall and fell to the ground. He could not stand back up as something discorporeal was holding him down. 

All Dymat could do was watch as four Sentinels, draped in their signature blue cloaks, came out of another room and scooped up the children. He felt white pain as a dagger was driven through his neck, pinning him to the floor. Rage boiled inside of him. He swore revenge.